Snow
by Sutzgal
Summary: Look at those tracks left in the snow. Imagine they're your injuries. At the moment they're raw and fresh. But then the snow falls and covers them. They heal. And so will you."


**Author's Note: **On the 29th September 2009 I read this story aloud to my English class with the following introduction:

"_As some of you may or may not know, at the beginning of this year my father walked out on us. That event in my life really knocked my confidence and made me extremely miserable. During that time I rediscovered an old children's program which I used to watch when I was eleven - a really dark children's program, to be honest. Since then I've really got back into it and it has given me something to concentrate on and an excuse to smile and laugh. It gave me happiness in my life at a time when I had no other happiness. So I wrote this story about me and my favourite character to show how important to me it was._

_All you really need to know for backstory is that the character I call Leo - who isn't human - has been attacked and very badly injured, so the rest of the group have taken him out to a farmhouse somewhere in the countryside to patch him up and let him recuperate_."

That was all the information I gave them. Some guessed that is was Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - others didn't.

So yeah, please excuse the shameless fangirliness. This is _just supposed to be friendship_, nothing more.

Oh, and the whole idea of Leo being out in the cold came from this fanfic  .net/s/3497817/1/What_Never_Happened

**Snow**

The house is very, very quiet. Everyone is being quiet or has left the house to collect supplies or firewood or just take a stroll or whatever. The ones who are here are tiptoeing round with worried expressions on their faces.

I don't think anyone has really taken a good look at Leo since he regained consciousness. We need to let him rest. Of course we do.

The wooden stairs creak ominously as I descend them. It's chilly. I wrap my hair around my face like an inbuilt scarf. It's very chilly. The moment I reach the bottom of the staircase I reach for my fleece which I discarded on a chair last night.

I turn round, hoping to see how Leo's doing… and then I freeze in my tracks, my heart thundering.

The old sofa that we laid Leo on last night and where he remained for hours unconscious – and then slept on for what was left of the night – is empty.

Leo is gone.

I breathe shallowly, trying not to panic. Maybe one of the others took him into another room? But the last time I saw him, he could barely move and when he spoke it sounded like he had swallowed a cheese grater.

A sudden creaking grabs my attention and I see that the front door isn't quite shut. The wind is blowing it gently open and closed again, but it's not latching properly.

No… he couldn't have…

I hurry over to the door and open it wide.

Oh, thank God.

There's an old bench on the porch outside. Apparently it was once a swing but when it came down, someone attached legs to it to make it into a bench. It seems to be the only thing in this place that's in relatively good condition – everything else is falling apart.

But what is more shocking by far is that Leo, bruised and injured and already weakened as he is, is actually sitting out here wrapped in the thick blanket we covered him with earlier.

That blanket is big, but it's not wide enough to cover everywhere so his legs are exposed to the stinging cold as well as most of his chest. This is not a good idea.

I nervously step out onto the porch. Snow crunches under my trainers. It's beautiful, but I know that in Leo's condition, staying out here too long is an extremely bad idea. In his condition, he's at a very high risk of becoming really sick or worse.

I close the door quietly and approach Leo, trying not to make him jump. "Hey," I say, my voice barely a whisper. "What are you doing out here?"

Leo blinks a bit but doesn't look at me. "It was hot in there," he says simply. "I just needed… just needed to cool down a little."

I bite my lip, looking at my shoes for a moment before looking back at him. "Well, I don't think you should stay out here. You'll make yourself ill." I swallow and put my hand against his forehead. It's warm to the touch. Can't be too careful. "Damn, you already _are_ ill. Come on, Leo, we'd better get you back inside." I reach for his arm and pull. Leo gives a sort of half-strangled gasp of pain and I recoil as if I've just touched something red hot. I'd forgotten that was his bad arm, the one he strained, sprained, broke, whatever.

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid…

"Sorry, I didn't mean to…"

"Please," he says softly, staring up at me with dull, lost-looking brown eyes. "Just a few more minutes."

That look almost reduces me to tears. So I give in. "OK," I murmur. "Wait here."

I hurry back inside the house and find the airing cupboard, from which I salvage as many large blankets as possible. Then I hurry back out to Leo, shutting the front door behind me.

I try to be as gentle and yet as thorough as I can while I wrap him up. I don't care how long he's staying out here, that blanket he had inside will only go so far. And besides, it gives me something to do. I cover his legs with a beige blanket and a green one (layers are best, right?) and make sure his bare feet are on a blanket too and not just snow. There's a much smaller blanket in the middle of the pile which I picked up by accident. Pale blue, and it's soft. I wonder for a moment if this blanket was once used to wrap up a baby. I drape it over his shoulders, tucking it around his neck.

Leo doesn't really respond. I think he's trying not to notice my mother hen impersonation. He hates this, I know he does, but I can't help it. I can't have him getting sick. But then again, the mighty and powerful Leonardo shouldn't be sick. It just doesn't seem right.

I've never known him this helpless. He's always been the one in control, the one we all turned to when we needed someone to rely on. He was the one who could always dive in and save your ass somehow.

But now he's the one relying on _us_. It just doesn't seem right, to me, or to Leo, or any of the others. Everything's been turned upside-down. No one really knows how to react. I certainly don't.

So I eventually settle on my basic instincts - to be as motherly as possible.

I pick the last, holey shawl for myself and sit down next to him on the bench. Leo's breathing is slow and lethargic. I look anxiously at his profile.

"How long have you been out here?"

"Five minutes… ten minutes, maybe?"

He sounds half asleep. Oh God.

"All right, well… five minutes, OK, Leo? Then I need to get you back inside. You're still very weak."

"Weak," he repeats slowly. I'm trying hard to swallow the lump in my throat. We all know Leo and his stupid pride by now.

"There's no shame in that, Leo," I say softly. "You were badly hurt. You nearly _died_. Of course you're weak after that."

I glances at me, his eyes still bleary. He looks so _vulnerable_, it's heartbreaking.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs.

OK, I know his automatic response to something is usually an apology - it's my basic reaction too - but it still surprises me. "For what?"

"For messing up in New York. I got my shell kicked. I let you all down. I scared you. I'm so sorry."

I can't resist rolling my eyes at that. "Stop it." I say. "It wasn't your fault. It was ours. We should have realised something was wrong. We should have called you or something. We just assumed you were all right." I pause, staring out at the vast expanse of whiteness that covers everything, from the trees to the yard to the nearby barn. "I bet if it had been one of the others out for so long, you would have gone after them, early morning training run notwithstanding. If it had been one of your brothers out there, maybe things would have been different. But we didn't worry and we didn't check in and you were more than half dead by the time we realised anything was the matter. If you should blame anyone, you should blame us… not yourself."

He looks at me again and his eyes widen slightly. "Susanna, you…"

"What?" I reach up to my face and feel something hard and smooth there. It's tears. I must be crying and the tears are freezing on my face. I brush them away, ignoring the sting as they detach from my skin, and sniff a little. "Sorry. I'm such a wimp. I always cry."

"No. No, you've had a tough time lately. Anyone would cry." Leo sighs sadly. "I'm just… sorry I wasn't able to protect you this time. Instead, _you_ had to protect me."

"Would you have preferred it if April and I had run and left you to die?"

"I…"

"What kind of family would we be then?"

He doesn't have an answer to that one. He closes his eyes and I realise that five minutes must have passed already, but the tranquillity of being out here is comforting. I can see why he likes it out here. Of course, growing up in the country instead of the city, I'm naturally happier in the calm and quiet.

Leo looks tired. Tired and sick and sad. I gaze at him for a few moments and then tentatively put out my arm and settle it across his shoulders. I'm warm-blooded, so at least I should give him some extra warmth.

He takes the invitation without question. I suppose he realises there is no point in fighting - even I could probably overpower him in this state.

"Leo," I say softly. "You don't have to be ashamed. Please don't be. You fought off about sixty Foot Ninja on your own as well as four Elite. If that isn't something to be proud of, I don't know what is."

"Notalot," Leo mutters, his head bent, leaning against me.

There seems to be no way of making him feel better. Maybe when he's got his strength back his spirit will return. Splinter did say that Leo was suffering from psychological wounds as well as physical.

I lift my other arm from the bench and wrap it around him, hugging him close. Leo, my close friend, my honorary brother. He's the tallest pillar (besides Marie and Miriku) in my adopted family, and if that crumbles, so will my sanity. I hang on to him as if I'm a drowning person clinging to a lifebelt or a hiker grabbing a rope which will haul me out of a rocky ravine. He's given me so much strength, he and his brothers. Now it is time for me to return the favour. I have no physical wounds, but I think it's safe to say that my confidence has been knocked just as much as his in recent months. He gave me some of it back, made me feel as if I was worth something. I felt… _stronger_ when I was around him.

But less than 48 hours ago, that could have been lost forever.

_Don't do that to me again. Ever. Please, Fate, God, anyone, whatever power out there exists, _please_ don't take him from me. I need him more than I can say. I need them all more than I can say._

I can't honestly say my love for him is romantic. I don't find him physically very attractive, though I think he and his brothers are beautiful as animals in their own way.

But still… have you ever loved something or someone so strongly that you literally feel an ache in your chest when you think about them?

It's his noble, sweet, proud personality that has guarded me and given me the weapons to face my own pain.

But now that has been almost snatched away, because I don't know who to turn to. So I simply bury my face in the thick blankets covering his shoulder, grit my teeth and try not to sob aloud as the tears come flowing and I can't stop them.

I'm half expecting him to put an arm round me and tell me it'll be OK, but he doesn't, and I know why. It's because his spirit is too injured. So when, after a few moments, I finally manage to get myself under control, I take the initiative. _I_ have to be the strong one this time.

He's still leaning against me, his eyes closed. It's impossible to tell whether he's dozing, sleeping or simply can't keep his eyes open any longer. I feel his forehead and it's cool. Being cold-blooded, he takes on the temperature of his surroundings, and I knew those blankets wouldn't be hugely effective in controlling his temperature.

So it's time to take him back inside. We've had much more than five minutes out here, that's for sure.

It's as I start to shift in order to support him going back in (Leo moans a little as I do this) that I feel something like a cold kiss on my cheek. A second later there's another, this time on my nose. I stare upwards into the sky. It has begun to snow again - small, dainty flakes of delicate white swirling down out of a sky that is as light grey as steel. We're vaguely sheltered under the veranda, but the gentle wind is blowing some flakes into my face.

The faintest traces of a smile touch the corners of my mouth. Snow. Pure, beautiful, silent and deadly. We see so little snow where I come from. It just doesn't happen. To see snow, especially this much of it, is such a treat, a blessing.

"Come on, Leo," I pick up his uninjured arm and drape it over my shoulders, hanging onto his wrist as I try to support him. "Time to go in."

Leo mutters something unintelligible but complies. He attempts to stand on his own - old habits die hard - but I'm having none of it. I try to pull the blankets on his back and shoulders further round him. I'll have to come back later and rescue the ones he lost when he stood up, but I don't mind that. A few snow-soaked blankets are worth a little peace of mind, for both Leo and me.

Leo's eyes are half open and he's incredibly heavy. For a moment I ponder whether to take him back inside, but then I turn us both towards the outside world.

"Leo, look. It's snowing."

Leo raises his head a little.

I take a deep breath and point.

"Look at those tracks that Mike and Casey left when they went out to get some firewood. And the tracks where April drove the car off to the local grocery store. Imagine they're our injuries. At the moment they're pretty obvious, raw and fresh and kind of spoiling the landscape. But then the snow falls…" I reach out one hand, catching some of the snowflakes on the tips of my fingers. "The snow falls and covers them. They heal. And when spring comes and the snow melts away, the forest grows again, stronger and better because of the injuries it has suffered."

Sure, I'm not a wizard with words like Leo is, but I'm doing my best. My best is all I can give anyway, right?

I turn to Leo, who is giving me a long, calculated look. For a moment, he seems a little like his old self.

"You see," I say firmly, "You _will_ get better, stronger because of the injuries you suffered. You'll go back to New York and take revenge on those that harmed you. Right?"

I have no clue as to whether I'm getting through to him. Maybe he's so delirious, he's not taking anything in, I don't know. But I have to try.

"Leo?"

He closes his eyes again, leaning against me. Carefully, I take him back inside and settle him on the sofa with a few extra blankets. Leo mutters something under his breath.

"What?" I ask.

"Thanks," he mutters. "For staying with me."

"What're friends for?" I give him the strongest smile I can muster, then press my hand against his head. That's better. Feels a bit warmer now. "Sleep now, Leo."

With a light nod that shows he at least understands, Leo closes his eyes. For a moment I just stand there looking at him. Then I head outside to rescue the blankets.

The snow continues to swirl down out of the plain grey sky. It lands lightly on my hair and melts. With the blankets in my arms, damp and encrusted with melting snow, I pause for a few minutes to comprehend the beauty and simplicity of this place.

Leo will get better and so will I. Whatever wounds we possess will heal over time, and we will both be much better and stronger for it. We will _all _be better and stronger for it.

At least, that's how I hope things will turn out.

Hope is good.

**The End**


End file.
